


an electric touch

by flowersforgraves



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Anal Sex, Collars, Dom/sub, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Carlos takes care of Harry, which works outverywell for both of them.





	an electric touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Highlander_II](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/gifts).



Carlos wasn’t expecting Harry to be happy about being manhandled to check over his injuries. He was expecting grumbling. Moaning. Groaning. Complaining. He _really_ wasn’t expecting a quiet, needy whimper to escape Harry as Carlos put his hands on him.

He’s about to make a snarky comment when he puts it together. The embarrassed look on Harry’s face. The way he arches into Carlos’ hands. The way he tries to stop himself from reacting with such blatant need. “Do you -- Harry -- do you want --” Carlos stumbles over his words, unsure what he’s offering. “After, do you want to --”

“No,” Harry says, rough. He pulls away from Carlos. “I don’t know what you think you’re getting at, but I’m not going to fucking _cuddle_ you.”

Carlos bares his teeth in something like a smile. “Fine. Leave it, then. Go on and stay touch-starved, see how long you’ll last when it’s a faery offering to help.” He turns on his heel, walking away at a carefully calculated pace, not too fast and not too slow. He’s being purposely antagonistic, because provoking Harry into an outburst is the quickest way to get him to stop being stubborn and start letting someone take care of him. 

“Carlos --!” Harry calls after him.

He stops. Doesn’t turn. Waits.

Then, “Okay,” Harry says, quietly. “Yes. Okay.”

Carlos turns around, then, walking back toward Harry, hand outstretched. Harry takes it, fingers clenched in a vise grip, but Carlos doesn’t flinch. “Come on,” he says. “I have a hotel room.”

Harry follows him, like a loyal dog, and when they’re in the third floor room Carlos has rented, hovers anxiously like he doesn’t know what to do.

“Jacket off,” Carlos says. “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?” It’s a nasty tone, even more than he expected. Harry brings out something in him that he calls ‘hidden depths’ when he’s feeling good and ‘a mean streak’ when he’s not.

Harry’s gaze drops to the ground. “No,” he mumbles. The jacket comes off, though Carlos doesn’t miss the beat of hesitation first. “Carlos --”

“Stoplight system work for you?” Carlos interrupts. He knows Harry is about to talk himself out of this, and Carlos can read his body language well enough to know that isn’t going to be good for him. Best to get this out of the way and into the actual contact.

“I -- yes,” Harry says, startled into a response. “But --”

“You tell me the second you need to stop,” Carlos says, just to make sure, and when Harry nods, he pushes past the anxiety swelling in his chest and steps forward to kiss him.

Carlos isn’t short, but Harry is tall, and that means Carlos has to tip his head up a bit. It’s an uncomfortable angle at first, but when Harry moans into his mouth and seems to melt into Carlos’ embrace, that fades into the background. “How far do you want this to go?” he asks, when he pulls back. He doesn’t let go of Harry’s shirt, keeping their chests close. His heart is in his throat, nerves feeling all too close to the surface.

Harry blink, lips slightly parted. “As far as you want,” he says, finally, sounding dazed. “I -- my pain tolerance is pretty good.”

Carlos’ heart jumps at that. “You want that?” he asks.

Harry stays very still for a moment, as if steeling himself, and then nods. “It’s nice,” he says. “With you. I don’t like to --” he waves a hand vaguely “-- you know?”

“It’s hard to let go,” Carlos says. “I get that.”

Harry nods, relief obvious on his face. 

Carlos wants to kiss him again, so he does, and Harry meets him halfway this time. Carlos breathes deep, bringing himself calmer, slipping deeper into his headspace for power-play. This is a work trip, so Carlos doesn’t have any proper gear with him, but they’ll make do. He has a knife, and they have bedsheets, and there’s a dog collar somewhere in his bag. “Bed,” he says flatly. “You’re not going to use words unless I tell you to, or you need to safeword, okay? Good, glad we understand each other.” He blows right past Harry’s attempt to start a sentence, and walks them over to the bed, shoves Harry down harder than necessary.

Harry’s eyes are wide, and his breathing is too fast, so Carlos starts with the collar. It’s an actual dog collar, suited for a K-9 unit, but it’s alright on its loosest setting for Carlos to feel safe using it. As he secures it around Harry’s neck, keeping as much direct contact as possible, he can feel Harry relax just a bit. “Good,” Carlos says, nonsensically.

He strips down to underwear, then starts undoing Harry’s belt. He watches closely for any indication of distress, then slides the jeans over Harry’s hips and off. “I’m going to fuck you,” he says, conversational. “Turn over.”

Harry does, quiet and without question. Carlos pulls at his shirt, pushing it up to see Harry’s shoulder blades, and starts laying kisses, open mouthed, down Harry’s spine. He’s not surprised that Harry gets hard almost immediately; there’s honestly very little surprising about all of this after the initial discovery that Harry needs to be touched. So he only spends a moment mouthing at Harry’s ass over his boxers, before he pulls those away too and slicks his fingers with the hotel travel-sized shampoo.

Harry whimpers when Carlos’ cold fingers touch him. Carlos palms his own cock through his boxers, feeling the wet spot where pre-come has already started to form at the head. But this is about Harry, so Carlos circles a finger once, twice, and slowly pushes into Harry up to the first knuckle.

There’s another moan, so Carlos pushes in further. A second finger, testing, then inside. A third, and then Carlos pulls all the way out to remove his boxers, freeing his dick to put a condom on. “Alright,” he says. “Hands above your head, Harry.”

Harry hesitates, but obeys, putting his hands at the top of the bed. Carlos hopes briefly that he’s tall enough for this, putting more faux-lube on his dick, and lines his cock up with Harry’s hole.

He feels Harry jump and tense, so he rubs Harry’s back until he’s better, and then with one smooth motion enters him.

It earns him a gasp, a pleased moan, and Carlos leans forward to pin Harry’s hands to the bed with his own. “Don’t move,” he says, low in Harry’s ear, and slowly starts rocking his hips back and forth. 

Ragged breathing turns to quiet whimpering, and Harry is arching up into Carlos’ touch, pushing his hips back to take more of Carlos, trying to get more contact. Carlos presses his hips back into the bed, but leans more heavily on Harry’s back to make up for it. He shifts his grip on Harry’s wrists, hooking two fingers into the collar. “Good,” he says. “You’re so good.” 

As much as he wants to tease, he wants to fuck Harry even more, so he starts moving faster. It takes a couple experimental thrusts to find the right angle, but he gets there, and Harry makes another noise, so loud Carlos leans in closer and whispers, “Quiet. Bite the pillow or the sheets if you have to.”

Apparently Harry does, because his next cries are muffled. Carlos fucks into him, faster than he wanted, because Harry is tight around him and so, so responsive, and Carlos wants to get off and then hold Harry for as long as Harry will let him.

Harry’s hips buck, thrusting into the sheets to try and get friction on his dick. With both of his hands pinned, he can’t touch himself, and Carlos’ hands are busy pinning him, so he hasn’t gotten any contact there whatsoever. “Stay still,” Carlos scolds before thinking. 

Harry gasps, and holds himself so tight Carlos can feel him trembling with effort. But he’s staying still, so Carlos rewards him by grinding down, giving him some pressure. “Come on, Harry,” Carlos says, hearing the effort and pleasure in his voice. “Come on, are you gonna come for me?”

Harry whimpers, and before he can make another noise, Carlos admonishes, “No words!”

Harry’s hips are still working, and when Carlos snaps his hips forward once more, hitting just the right angle, he bites into the pillow again and clenches around Carlos’ dick. He comes, noisy, muffled by the pillow but still loud enough to be very, very satisfying. 

Carlos bites his lip, grinds down, and comes a moment after. “Good,” he gasps, starting to shake as he comes down from the high. “Good, Harry. Done so well.” He slides out of Harry, and flops down on top of him, only half for Harry’s sake and half for his own security. Harry’s still wearing a shirt, which Carlos is grateful for, because he’s never been fond of sticky sweaty post-coital cuddling. “Alright?”

Harry nods, face still pressed into the sheets. “Good,” he mumbles.

“Good,” Carlos repeats. “Good.”


End file.
